


Lights on cars

by lazycycle



Series: Rex x Emmet [1]
Category: The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Cars, Flashback, Grief, Heavy Angst, Hurt, M/M, One Shot, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Remmet - Freeform, Remmex - Freeform, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 23:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazycycle/pseuds/lazycycle
Summary: Not much can help a heartbroken soul, and that's something Emmet Brickowski is well aware of.Rex knows it too, but he handles his sorrows in a self destroying way Emmet does not support of.Their breakup has affected them both a lot, and not a single good thing have come out of it.





	Lights on cars

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday fanfic for a good friend that I am sharing here as well. I hope you all enjoy it! :)

It is cold outside, the wind is rustling the trees and traveling through the streets, keeping up kids scared of the dark and making animals freeze. 

Emmet hates it when it's dark, or rather, he hates being alone in the dark. He prefers to have another person with him, to use someone else as a blanket while listening to the howls of the wind. A lot of people called him a scaredy cat when he was younger, he instead viewed himself as a romantic person. He hates streetlamps too, as they only remind him of lamps on cars. 

He hates lamps on cars. 

Someone is knocking on the door, one with a strong fist. 

There aren't many people living in Emmet's town, and those who live there are mostly asleep at this hour. Yet, Emmet stands up from his couch, walking near the door and pushing an ear to the wooden surface to listen. He can't hear anyone, as nature is too loud, so he peeks through one of the small windows beside the door, making sure the curtain covers him. He doesn't want anyone else to know how paranoid he can be. 

There is a man outside, but the darkness of the street hides him away, refusing to let Emmet see who it is. 

“Emmet, I know you are home, can you please help me?” Asks a hoarse voice and Emmet can clearly visualize who it belongs to. He knows that voice very well, having heard it several times in different tones, different moments, emotions. 

Emmet moves his hand toward the door handle, feeling wary of whether he should open it or not. He trusts the person outside, but he doesn't trust himself. He never trusts himself. 

“Emmet, please.” The man's tone is pleading now, sounding defeated. 

Emmet, too, feels defeated, so he unlocks his door and opens it. 

Rex is standing outside his door, leaning on one foot and holding a bottle of vodka in his hand. His eyes are bleary and the skin around is almost swollen looking. His hair is wild as well, and not the typically planned mess he calculates each morning. Even his shirt is buttoned wrong. 

“Hi,” says Emmet, not able to take his eyes off Rex. He looks ragged almost, exhausted. 

“Hi,” responds Rex, and his voice is so small now, not the typical strong sound that carries for miles. He is nothing but an empty shell of his former self. 

Emmet swallows, feeling his throat turn drier the longer he looks at his ex-boyfriend. 

“Can I come in?” Rex asks and his jaw catches Emmet's attention. He always had a stubble, but now it's longer, unkept. 

Emmet doesn't know what to say. If he lets Rex come in, what will happen? Why did Rex even come here in the first place? 

“Yeah, sure,” he whispers and moves to the side to let his old friend come inside. 

Rex has a limp and there may even be blood on his pants, but Emmet isn't sure. 

Emmet is never sure when it comes to Rex. 

“You've just cleaned? It smells nice… homely,” muses Rex while walking around in circles, taking in all the furniture and pictures. 

Emmet has either hidden away the pictures with Rex in them, or he has placed them face down against the surfaces. It hurts too much to see Rex, to remember all their moments. 

Sometimes, he wishes he could forget everything, especially right now. 

“Why are you here? drunk?” Asks Emmet, then walks to sit down on his couch. He doesn't really want an answer, and Rex knows that. 

His palms are clammy and legs weak. Rex always made him feel like that, nervous, yet giddy. He used to think he could accomplish anything, as long as Rex was there. 

“I wanted to see you. Is that bad? Is it bad that I miss you?” Rex slowly walks toward him, but then sits down on the couch instead. Emmet looks down to make sure there is enough distance between them, which there luckily is. 

“Why didn't you call?” Emmet drags his palms down his pants, trying to get the sweat off. 

“You know I can often act on impulse. Right now I really wanted to see you, so I came.” Rex stares at Emmet's hands, which makes him feel uncomfortable so he stops. 

“Where's your car?” Emmet asks then and tightens his hands into fists, feeling his nails dig into his skin. 

“You know it's still trashed from the last time. I don't think anyone can save that piece of junk.” Rex takes a swig from his flask and Emmet watches his Adam's apple bob as he drinks. 

“You loved that car. Why are you talking about it as if-” 

The way Rex looks at Emmet makes him go quiet and his stomach tighten. 

“I didn't come to talk about that wreck, but…” Rex opens and closes his mouth, clearly struggling to form words. “I want to talk about us. I miss us. I miss you. I miss waking up in the mornings to see you lie beside me, to hear your tired good mornings and to feel your weird kisses on my shoulder in the middle of the night. I miss our dates and our anniversaries and everything that made us into us.” 

He grabs Emmet's hands with gentle fingers and Emmet can feel them shaking, can feel Rex's nerves pulsate through his body. 

Emmet smiles to himself, but it's not a smile of joy. 

“Rex,” he begins and starts to play with his ex-boyfriend's hands. “You really had to be drunk to tell me that? Could you not come here while sober?”

Emmet hates how Rex makes him feel, how he feels like a marionette that's trapped in Rex's threads. Rex can bend him and mold him just the way he wants to and there is nothing Emmet can do then oblige. 

“I'll stay here until tomorrow, until I am completely sobered up and then I'll tell you this as many times as you want. I'll climb on top of the roof and shout it out to the world.” Rex leans forward and moves his fingers to Emmet's jaw, making him look up at him. 

“Emmet, I promise I'll be kind. I promise I'll be good to you. I promise I can make everything go back to the way things used to be.” His voice is shaking, but Emmet knows Rex won't cry. Rex Dangervest never cries. 

“Emmet, I care too much about us to give up.”

That's what breaks Emmet, that's what makes him squeeze his eyes to force his tears back, that's what makes his lower lip wobble as he tries to compose himself. 

Why did Emmet have to be so god damn emotional?

“Okay,” he murmurs and lays back on the couch, using the armrest as a pillow. “Lay down with me?”

Rex doesn't spare a second before leaning down beside Emmet, and Emmet appreciates the enthusiasm. 

They have never been a couple that cuddles, a couple who shows their emotions so open-heartedly. 

Rex moves a hand up beside Emmet's face and moves a strand away from his forehead. His fingers are so gentle Emmet wonders if Rex is scared he'll break. 

Maybe he will.

Break. 

“You are way more important to me than alcohol,” whispers Rex and Emmet can feel his breath on his face. “I would never be able to live without you.” 

Emmet agrees. 

He would never be able to live in a world without Rex either. 

“Rex,” Emmet begins and the person whom he thought would be his life-long companion smiles. His smile is soft, a small push against his eyes. 

“Rex, why could you just not tell me that when you were alive,” Emmet's voice breaks and finally his tears fall through. There is nothing he can do to hold them back anymore. 

A car passes by his window and the blinding lights illuminate the entire room to the point where Emmet can barely see anything anymore. All he sees is the faint smile on Rex's face, the same smile he wore before his death three months ago. 

Emmet can still see his face in his head. He can still smell the alcohol clinging to Rex like a second skin and hear the sound of breaks coming from an old car. 

When the light is gone Rex is as well, and so is the alcohol bottle.

Emmet hates the dark, and he hates streetlamps too.

He hates how everything reminds him of that horrible night when his entire life got destroyed.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this not too happy story, and that nothing was confusing :) If you enjoyed, please leave a comment as it would make my day! :)))


End file.
